san jose & my disappearing spray can (it's hot as hell here)

okay, let's get this straight. i landed in san jose with a backpack full of *cans and a head full of noise. the second i stepped out of the airport, the air hit like a frying pan. i just checked and it's...well, the weather app says 91°F but feels like someone's holding a hair dryer to your face. my spray paint is already sweating in the bag. not ideal.

this city is a mosaic of stuff you expect (tech buses, endless suburbs) and stuff you dont (a seriously legit street art scene creeping out of the sofa district). i spent the morning hiding from the sun under the Guadalupe River Trail overpasses, tagging brick that's seen better days. someone told me that the city council kinda looks the other way as long as it's not on private glass-which is just a fancy way of saying dont paint the shiny buildings. drunk advice from a guy at a coffee shop (shoutout to bitter moon for the iced chai that saved my life) said the real spots are in the rays of the key's old alleyways. i got there, and yeah, the walls are alive. layers upon layers of color screaming over each other.

i heard that a gallery owner down on santa clara street gets pissed if you sell pieces right off the wall without asking-apparently there's a whole ecosystem i'm stepping into. local politicians versus graffiti writers, eternal war. i'm just here for the vibe, man. speaking of vibe, if you get bored, santa cruz's beach is like 30 minutes away and the fog there actually feels like a blanket. i might bail tomorrow if this heat doesn't break.

last night i found a taco truck parked outside a laundromat (the best combo, honestly). the guy rolling tortillas said the best burrito in the area is at la taqueria but warned me about the lines. he wasnt lying. i waited 25 minutes for a carne asada that made me forget my hands were sticky with paint. 10/10, would starve again.

the humidity is sitting at a sneaky 41%, so the sweat doesn't evaporate-it just sits there, feeling like slime. my shoes are gross. i saw a tag that just said 'too hot' and honestly, mood. i'm crashing at a hostel near the swap meet where the smell of old clothes and incense fights the smell of hot asphalt. it's a sensory overload in the best/worst way.

overheard at the bus stop: 'dude, the cops totally ticket for spraying in the daylight now.' so, night ops only. got it. also, someone muttered about a weird ghost tour in the old hotel by the station. maybe i'll check that out if i survive the heat. the barometric pressure is 1016, which means nothing to me but sounds science-y and heavy. like the air has weights in it.

if you're coming, bring water that's cold enough to hurt your teeth. wear hats. find the graffiti before it gets painted over-it's a living thing here, breathing and changing. i'm heading to the south bay to look for walls that won't melt my cans. wish me luck, or don't. i'm just another shadow on the concrete.

p.s. check this local art collective's instagram for spots that are 'safe' (whatever that means). and maybe read the rants on the san jose downtown association board-it's a mess of yuppie complaints and real talk about street cleanliness*.

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